


Las Palabras de Amor (The Words of Love)

by TheNightComesDown



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: BoRhap, College, F/M, Fluff, London, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Suggestive Themes, University
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-10 15:46:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17428832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNightComesDown/pseuds/TheNightComesDown
Summary: After sitting down at Roger and Brian's table in the college's library, you catch the eye of Queen's intellectual guitarist.





	1. A Quiet Place

**Author's Note:**

> The characters in this story are based on the lovely performances of the cast of Bohemian Rhapsody (2018). All of my love and respect goes to the fantastic real-life members of Queen, so please keep in mind that I'm attempting to be less weird by not making things based on them as human beings, but instead on the character interpretations of them.

On a Friday afternoon, you found yourself perusing the stacks at the college’s library. Although you were a regular patron, familiar with the shelving system, the book you were searching for wasn’t where you knew it should be. You trailed your finger along the spines of the books, repeating the call number you had written on your hand at the circulation desk.

“Y/N, he’s here!” hissed a voice on the other side of the shelf. Frowning, you peered over top of the shelf, meeting the eyes of your study partner, Nancy. 

“Who’s here?” you whispered back, glancing down either side of the aisle. It appeared that you were alone. 

“Don’t be daft,” she rolled her eyes. “HE’s here. Roger, the drummer from that band, you know? The one we saw at the pub a few weeks back?” You remembered indeed. Nancy had vomited directly on your new trainers after the show, and you’d had to wear them on the train home. 

“Yes, I recall,” you mumbled crossly, deciding the book you wanted was not, in fact, available to check out. “Fella with the blonde hair, funny-lookin’ fringe?” Nancy put a hand over her mouth in mock horror. 

“It is not funny-looking, Y/N,” she protested. “I think he’s quite lovely, and he’s sitting right at our table!” You walked to the end of the aisle, and Nancy followed. 

“Nance, we haven’t got a table,” you reminded her, “we’ve only just got here.” Nancy rolled her eyes and grabbed your wrist, towing you along to the open area in the centre of the room, which was lined with tables. 

“Yes, well there aren’t many open seats left, so we might as well take the two right beside him, don’t you think?” she whispered excitedly. You let out a heavy sigh, but followed Nancy to the table she had pointed out. Sure enough, nearly every table had only a single seat left – except one. As you approached the table, Nancy smoothed her skirt delicately and tossed her hair over her shoulder. 

“Ridiculous,” you said under your breath, shaking your head. Nancy was a friend, but you had realized more and more as the semester wore on that you had very little in common. She lived in the room next to yours; because her own roommate’s work schedule was so busy, you had quickly become Nancy’s go-to pub partner. 

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Nancy smiled, leaning down to speak. Her shirt gaped open at the front, giving both of the table’s occupants a view of her lacy white bra. The blonde, Roger, grinned widely as he met Nancy’s eyes. “Would you mind if we sat beside you? Y/N and I didn’t realize it would be so busy today,” she said, batting her lashes. You bit your tongue so as not to laugh aloud at her ploy – but to your chagrin, her attempt at charm had worked. 

“Sure that’s alright, innit, Brian?” Roger said, patting his friend’s hand to get his attention. A mane of dark brown curls enveloped his table partner’s face, creating a soundproof curtain of sorts. 

“Hmm, yes,” Brian hummed, not looking up from his book. “Whatever you like, Roger.” Nancy eagerly sat herself down beside Roger, leaving you to the chair across from her. A stack of heavy texts took up your portion of the desk, which you needed to stack your own books upon. Based on the titles, they probably didn’t belong to Roger, who appeared to be avoiding his studies at all costs. A legal pad on the table before him was his only proof of productivity; it appeared that he had been scribbling out lyrics or a poem. 

“Pardon me,” you whispered to Brian, laying your hand atop the stack of books, “would you mind if I just shifted these over?” He looked up from his book, his face blank as if this was the first social interaction he’d had for the day. 

“What’s that?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. 

“Your books, can I move them?” you repeated, tapping them with your fingers. “I just haven’t got any desk space here.” After a moment, your words appeared to have clicked in his mind – he grabbed the stack of books and deposited them beneath his chair. 

“Right, sorry,” he apologized, a slight smile crossing his lips. “A little too focused on my studies, it seems.” His voice was intelligent, with a touch of boyish awkwardness. 

“Sorry to interrupt, then,” you said, looking down at your own books. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that he was still looking at you. He let out a short, breathy laugh as he noticed colour rise in your cheeks. 

Brian turned sideways in his chair and opened his mouth to speak, but your attention was drawn to Nancy, who let out a loud giggle as Roger shared a private joke with her. She clapped a hand over her mouth as the sound echoed around the room. The librarian looked up sharply from his desk in search of the culprit, staring down the bridge of his hooked nose as he scanned the room. 

“Nancy,” you scolded quietly, “you’ll get us kicked out before we’ve even started studying.” Your friend pressed her lips together tightly, ducking her head in apology. Shaking your head, you pulled your notebook from your knapsack and opened it to a fresh page. Brian returned to his book, and you set to work on outlining your next paper – which was due in three days. Although the library was packed, the room was silent but for the turning of pages and the whir of the photocopier behind the circulation desk. 

A rustling sound pulled your attention from your outline for a moment, but you ignored it. Moments later, the sound reappeared, as if someone was crumpling up sheets of paper. Brian cleared his throat, peering up at Roger over the top of his book. Roger ignored the scowl on his friend’s face. 

“You girls should come out to the pub with us tonight,” Roger said, unwrapping a sandwich coated in brown paper. “Get a few drinks, dance a bit, eh?” He took a generous bite of the sandwich, crunching through a thick piece of lettuce. “It’s been a while since Bri’s had a night out.” 

“Roger, will you be QUIET?” Brian snapped, closing his book forcefully. “You’ll be going to the pub on your own if I don’t get through these readings.” Roger folded his arms across his chest with a sigh. 

“Mr. May, a word please?” the librarian asked, barely raising his voice. Heads swivelled towards their table, and Brian, seething, trudged over to the circulation desk. You watched him as he walked, his long legs carrying him across the room in only a few strides. He wore slim trousers, a collared shirt and a knit jumper over top. Very academic-looking, you thought. 

“Is he quite angry, Roger?” Nancy whispered, glancing at Brian over her shoulder. Roger, continuing to eat his crunchy sandwich, shrugged his shoulders. 

“Eh. We’ll find out in a minute, I suppose,” he said indifferently. “If he is, I’m sure Fred or John’ll be willing to go out instead. He’s touchy sometimes, Brian is.” The librarian shook his head as Brian attempted to reason with him – there were no exceptions to be had. After their discussion had ended, Brian slunk back to the table. You pretended to pay attention to your essay outline, but your annoyance with Roger and Nancy’s behaviour made it difficult for you not to comment on their continued chattering. 

“Lovely, Roger, just lovely,” Brian fumed, opening his knapsack and filling it with books. “McCann has barred me from the library until Tuesday afternoon, so now I’ve got nowhere to study for this exam.” He slid the strap of his bag over his shoulder and stood before Roger, waiting for a response. 

“So does that mean you’re not coming tonight, then?” Roger asked, swallowing the last bite of his sandwich. Brian threw his hands up in defeat and walked off. Without thinking, you grabbed your books in one arm and your bag in the other. As you stood up, Nancy grabbed your arm. 

“Where are you off to, now? We’ve only just got here,” she frowned. With a sigh, you pulled your arm away. 

“I’ll catch up with you later,” you said, clutching your books tight to your chest. “I’m going to scout out a quieter place to sit.” Nancy looked as if she was going to protest, but Roger put an arm around her shoulder and leaned in to whisper something to her. 

“Meet you at the pub for 7, then!” she called softly behind you. The librarian squinted suspiciously as you passed him, but you walked quietly until you made it through the doors. You scanned the hall for Brian, and caught a glimpse of his curly hair as he rounded the corner, heading toward the quad. With haste, you followed, catching up with him as he crossed the grassy courtyard. Being a full foot taller than you, Brian’s legs had carried him a significant distance in the time it took you to pack up. 

“Brian, wait up!” you called. Hearing his voice, he turned around to look for the source. “Hey,” you greeted him. 

“Hello – oh, have I forgotten something?” he frowned, patting his trouser pockets. “I’ve misplaced my wallet a few times over the past few days…” 

“No, it’s not that,” you said, catching your breath. “I just wanted to—” you stopped, realizing that you hadn’t thought about what to say. You had gotten up so quickly that the thought hadn’t yet crossed your mind. 

“Just wanted to…?” Brian tilted his head towards you, raising his eyebrows curiously. 

“I thought that maybe you could use a quiet place to study,” you finished. “There’s a lounge in our dorm that’s not too busy, if you want.” Your face flushed again as you realized how odd you sounded. To your surprise, Brian’s face lit up. 

“My roommates will all be clanking around our flat,” he explained, “so that would actually be fantastic.” As he smiled, you noticed that his eyes weren’t brown as you had first thought. 

“You’ve got lovely eyes,” you noted, realizing too late that you had said it out loud. “I mean — hazel’s not a common colour, and they really pop with hair like yours…” You trailed off. 

“That’s very kind of you to say,” Brian smiled appreciatively. “I always felt my eyes were quite boring, really.” He leaned down, looking intently into your eyes. “You’ve got flecks of gold and green in your eyes. I like that.” You looked away quickly, embarrassed. 

“Let’s be off then, shall we?” you said, changing the subject. “Dormitories are just behind the old physics labs.” Brian walked alongside you, clearly changing his strides to match the length of yours. 

“What’s your field of study, Y/N?” he asked as you passed the science wing of the college. “I saw the cover of your textbook back at the library, but I can’t seem to recall the subject.” 

“I’m finishing up my Master’s in microbiology, focusing on infectious disease,” you answered. “Thinking about doing my PhD if and when I find a topic that interests me enough.” Kicking a stone along as you walked, you caught sight of Brian’s shoes – a pair of white wooden clogs. 

“I knew you had to be interested in some sort of biology,” he replied, pointing at your backpack. You had pinned on several buttons, each featuring a hand-drawn bacterium you had drawn yourself. “Very creative,” he acknowledged. 

“And you must study physics,” you said, “I saw a book on quantum mechanics in your stack.” He smiled, impressed with your memory. 

“My parents have always found it od that I chose to study physics when I’ve been so interested in music,” he remarked thoughtfully. “I can’t say that there are many connections between my guitar and interplanetary dust.” 

“It’s okay to have many interests,” you said confidently. “Maybe you could write a song inspired by your physics work, like that fellow who wrote the symphony about the planets.” 

“Ah, Gustav Holst,” he said, identifying the composer. “Now there’s an interesting idea. ” As you approached the dormitory, Brian cut ahead of you to open the door. You smiled up at him in thanks, and he raised his eyebrows in response. 

He’s actually pretty cute, you thought to yourself. Cute _and _intelligent.__

__“So you play guitar then?” you asked as you climbed the stairs to the second floor. “I was at one of your shows a few weeks back with my friend, the one from the library,” you clarified._ _

__“I thought I recognized you from somewhere,” he said. “Didn’t your friend get sick on your shoes after the show?” You covered your face with your hand dramatically and groaned._ _

__“Lovely, glad that’s how you remember me,” you rolled your eyes. “Can’t believe I still agree to go out with Nancy after that.” Brian made a sound that was nearly a laugh, which appeared to be a trademark of his._ _

__“But yes, I do play guitar,” he nodded. “Decently well, I suppose, because people continue to come to our shows.” As you walked down the hall, you directed him into the student lounge. As you had thought, there were plenty of open tables, and even the couch was free._ _

__“Lighting’s best right beside the window,” you announced, pointing to a small table across the room. “More leg room on the couch, though. Choose wisely, sir.”_ _

__“Difficult choice,” Brian said, rubbing his chin in mock contemplation. “Is your eyesight quite good?” He held up his hand, displaying his index finger and thumb. “How many fingers do you see?”_ _

__“Six,” you responded, not missing a beat. “Or four, can’t be sure.” He held out an arm towards the couch, allowing you to choose your seat. You curled up in the corner closest to the window, and he sat on the opposite side._ _

__“Is there a rule against being shoeless in this building?” he asked, pointing at his clogs. You pulled your own shoes off, a pair of worn brown Dr. Martens boots, in response. Smiling, Brian slid his clogs off to reveal a pair of rainbow socks._ _

__“You have impeccable taste in footwear,” you noted._ _

__“Don’t say that around Roger, he’d have a fit,” Brian warned. “He can’t stand my clogs. Says they scare girls off.”_ _

__“Do they?”_ _

__“Maybe they discourage the ones who aren’t my type,” he shrugged. “College and playing shows with the boys hasn’t left me a lot of time to find out.” You poked around your knapsack and pulled out your own book, opening it to the page you had left off on. “What about your boots, are they hunk magnets?” he asked, cringing at the words he had chosen._ _

__“You tell me,” you replied without a second thought. As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted speaking at all. “Shit, that’s not what I mean—”_ _

__“Are you implying that I, a poodle-haired beanpole in clogs, am a hunk?” he interrupted, incredulous. “Just wait til I tell Roger!” Stunned and red with embarrassment, you turned your face away. Brian stretched his legs out, crossing his ankles, and opened his book without another word. As you heard a page turn a moment later, you stole a look over at him. He appeared concentrated on his reading. Hoping to forget the entire situation, you immersed yourself in your microbiology text. The only sound for the next several minutes was the turning of pages._ _

__“They’re nice,” Brian spoke softly, breaking the silence. You didn’t dare look up, instead staring intently at the pages before you._ _

__“What’s that?” you squeaked. He turned another page, his eyes continuing to scroll over sentences._ _

__“Your boots,” he said, “I think they’re nice.” You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. He had turned his face slightly towards you, and was watching you curiously._ _

__“Oh. Thank you,” you nodded, turning back to your book. You re-read the page over again, realizing you hadn’t absorbed any information the first time._ _

__“Y/N,” Brian murmured, “have you got time tonight for dinner at the pub?” At this, you put your book down. Your heart skipped a beat, and you tried not to look surprised as you met Brian’s eyes. “As long as you get your reading done,” he added._ _

__“I thought you didn’t want to go to the pub with Roger,” you said, frowning._ _

__“Oh, we wouldn’t go with Roger,” he cringed, feigning disgust. “He’s going to be all over your friend, I’m sure, and I don’t think either of us need to see that.” He looked intently into your eyes, which crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “I thought maybe we could go somewhere off the college grounds, take a bit of a walk.” You couldn’t think of a reason to refuse, and you certainly didn’t want to watch Nancy throwing herself all over Brian’s friend._ _

__“Alright then,” you agreed. Brian nodded, and turned back to his book. Checking your watch, it was nearly five o’clock already. You hadn’t been able to find the book you really wanted that day, and at this point, your motivation and interest in studying was severely diminished. Suddenly, Brian’s stomach rumbled audibly beside you. He read to the end of his page, slapped the book close, and turned to you._ _

__“Fuck that, then,” he declared. “How does fish and chips sound to you?” You laughed and put your book away._ _

__“Sounds lovely, but I’m not sharing my chips,” you informed him. He stood and stretched, exposing his midriff. A thin trail of dark hair descended from his belly button. He slipped his feet back into his clogs in seconds, while you worked at undoing the laces of your boots._ _

__“Are you one of those girls who doesn’t share food on dates?” he asked, eying you with mock concern. His eyes twinkled, reflecting the light of the antique fixture hanging from the ceiling of the lounge._ _

__“You clearly don’t have brothers,” you laughed, looking up at him._ _

__“Only child,” Brian admitted, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as you finished tying the laces on your boots._ _

__“I learned to be very protective of my food from a young age. I’ve got four brothers, two older and two younger,” you explained, “so if I didn’t watch my plate carefully, it would all be gone before I even had a chance to take a bite.” You stood up, finally ready to leave. “Mind if we pop down the hall so I can change quickly?”_ _

__“Usually a girl lets me buy her dinner before inviting me into her room and getting undressed,” Brian teased. “But I don’t mind.”_ _

__“You may be a hunk,” you said, attempting to keep a straight face, “but my roommate has a strict rule against boys in clogs coming into our room before the third date.” At this, Brian laughed aloud for the first time that day._ _

__The two of you made your way to your dormitory room, stopping outside a door with intricate paper flowers decorating the wood. You and your roommate had made them together after she had received a package of origami paper from her grandmother for her birthday – an odd gift, but it had been put to good use._ _

__“Lovely decor,” Brian commented, leaning against the wall as you dug around in your bag for the key._ _

__“Thanks,” you replied, “make sure you add ‘origami skills’ to the list of my many fine qualities.” Brian held his hand before him, as if holding a notebook, and using his finger as a pen, made a checkmark. Shaking your head, you finally found the key and unlocked the door. Like a gentleman, Brian waited in the hall while you fished through your substantial laundry pile in search of a coat._ _

__“Don’t be too long now,” he said, raising his voice, “last thing we want is to run into Roger and have to take him along with us.”_ _

__“I’ll not be sharing with Roger tonight, sir,” you announced as you stepped back out into the hall, pulling the door shut behind you. You had traded your backpack for an across-the-shoulder bag, and were now sporting a collared pinafore dress. Brian raised his eyebrows as he looked you up and down. A pair of white socks peeked out over the tops of your boots. Your outfit, which gave off a schoolgirl-esque feel, matched perfectly with Brian’s academic look._ _

__“I hope those boots are good for walking,” Brian said, smiling wryly as he followed you down the stairs. “I have a strict rule against lending my clogs to women who don’t share their chips on dates.”_ _

__“I’m sure they’ll be just fine,” you assured him. As you reached the bottom step, you stumbled forward on the upturned corner of a rug. You quickly regained your balance and pushed your way out the door. Brian walked up directly beside you and put a gently hand against the small of your back._ _

__“You alright?”_ _

__“Just testing gravity,” you joked. He shifted his hand to your waist and drew you closer. Your stomach fluttered as he looked down at you and winked._ _

__“As a physicist, I can confirm that gravity does indeed work here on earth,” he chuckled, “but just in case, I’d better keep an eye on you.” The two of you walked along for nearly a half hour before Brian pointed across the street at the pub he had in mind, a hole-in-the-wall kind of place he swore you’d love the atmosphere of. Although you’d only met hours before, you already felt that Brian knew you in a way no other man had before._ _

___I might have to make an exception about that clog rule _, you thought with a smirk as you crossed the road, enjoying the feel of Brian’s protective arm around you.____


	2. Scrabble Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian invites you over for supper and board games with the guys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter didn't involve any sexy stuff. This one does. Please don't read if you're under 18 because laws and stuff.

On a Wednesday evening, you sat alone in your dorm room. Your roommate had gone out to supper with her parents, leaving you to type up the rest of your paper. The dormitory lounge was buzzing down the hall – the student council was hosting a board game night for undergraduates. Checking your watch, you saw that it was 7:35; Brian was due to call any minute now. After your evening out to the pub two weeks earlier, you had given him your telephone number, and he had called nearly every evening to chat.

Glancing at a water bottle on your roommate’s desk, you realized that you should probably take a trip to the toilet; you hadn’t been since early in the afternoon, and you had guzzled down nearly an entire pot’s worth of tea since then. The day before, Brian hadn’t been able to call until nearly 8:00, so it would probably be fine to run down the hall now. It would only take two minutes. You finished typing the paragraph you were on, and stepped out of the room. 

While washing your hands, you heard the dorm phone ring. You quickly turned the taps off and dried your hands on your trousers before racing down the carpeted hall toward the phone. One of the girls from down the hall reached it before you and answered. You called her name, but she ignored you, holding up a hand as if to say, “I’m busy”. 

“Who’s this now? Brian?” the girl asked, smiling brightly. “Hi, Brian. You should come to our board game night!” After pausing to listen, she giggled hysterically, making you wonder what he possibly could have said. “Are you sure you want to talk to her?” she wondered, lowering her voice suggestively. With a frown, she covered the receiver with her palm and called out, “Y/N, phone for you!” You held a hand out, rolling your eyes with annoyance. 

“Thanks, Jen,” you sighed. “What would I do without you?” She waved the tips of her fingers at you and waltzed back to the lounge. 

“My apologies, didn’t realize Jen was single again,” you huffed, holding the receiver to your face. Brian laughed breathily on the other end. 

“Jealous?” he asked, his smile evident in his voice. “She almost got me with the board game night suggestion, I’ll have you know. You didn’t tell me about that.” You sat on the floor with your back against the wall, twirling the coiled phone cord around your finger. 

“These tarts aren’t the kind of people you want to play board games with, trust me,” you muttered darkly. “They only host these events so they can have an excuse for bringing boys and alcohol into the building after-hours.” Brian hummed his understanding. In the background, the trill of a smoke alarm sounded. 

“One second, please,” Brian sighed. “These boys, I swear…” He set the phone down on the table, leaving you to listen as he reprimanded Roger for not turning on the kitchen fan. 

“Not my fault it’s burnt!” you heard someone shout. “Fred was supposed to be watching it.” The kitchen tap turned on, and the sizzle of water on metal was loud in your ear. The phone scratched against the table as Brian picked it back up. 

“Y/N, how would you feel about coming over this evening?” he asked, his voice thick with frustration. “I’ve got to pop out and pick up supper now, as Freddie’s burnt the chicken beyond repair.” A high-pitched protest rang out, which Brian ignored. “We’ve got the van tonight, so I could pick you up on the way.” You thought about the paper you still had to finish typing out, but pushed it to the back of your mind. 

“Does this mean I’d get to meet the boys tonight?” 

“Not sure why you’d want to meet these hooligans,” Brian remarked. “But yes, they’re expecting me to bring food back. Hungry bastards.” Roger howled in the background, and chants of “Food! Food! Food!” started up. 

“I’ll wait in front of the dorm, then?” you confirmed. 

“Give me 15 minutes,” he replied. “Any longer and you’ll know that I’ve been held up, likely strangling Roger.” His voice was stippled with annoyance, and you sighed in solidarity. 

“ See you in a few, then,” you said, hanging up the phone on the hook. As you walked back to your room to change, you marvelled at Brian’s patience. You had only met Roger at this point, but from what Brian had said about his flatmates, you knew he had his hands full. 

You pulled on a pair of flared denim trousers, and tucked in the bottom of your emerald green blouse. The sleeves you rolled to your elbows. Digging through your roommate’s drawer stuffed with scarves and ribbons, you found a white silk scarf to knot around your neck, à la Farrah Fawcett. Elaine, who had been your roommate for nearly two years, had also loaned you her white brogue heels, which you had promised not to scuff up. You slipped your feet into the heels and tied the laces up tightly. 

“You’ll want to have these for when you see Brian,” she had insisted. 

“I don’t mind the height difference,” you’d told her. 

“I’ve always liked seeing taller fellows, because they have to bend down so far to kiss me,” she had said, smirking. “Don’t you like that?” 

“Brian and I haven’t…it’s not like that,” you shook your head. “We’re just hanging out.” Elaine had looked sceptical, but hadn’t pressed you further. 

The fact of the matter was that Brian hadn’t made a move, and you didn’t want to rush him. You had seen each other two or three times since he’d taken you out for supper the first time, and he called daily, but it hadn’t gone anywhere further than that. Trying not to dwell on it, you slid your handbag over your shoulder and left your room. You took extra care to lock the door, as board game night had drawn many unfamiliar students into the building. 

The van pulled up in front of the building a few minutes later, and Brian got out to open your door for you. A slight breeze blew as you stepped down the stairs, and a few strands of your hair tickled your face. Brian’s eyes went wide as he saw you. 

“Stop,” he called out, turning back towards the van. “Wait right there for just a moment.” With a sigh, you did as he asked. He opened the door and pulled out a camera, the 3-lens stereoscopic model he carried with him everywhere for just such moments. 

“Brian, what are you doing?” you groaned. “What are you taking a picture of?” 

“You, silly,” he smirked. “Go back inside and walk out, just as you did before.” Rolling your eyes but secretly amused, you stomped back into the building. When you had come down the three short steps, Brian looked up at you with a frown. 

“Something’s off,” he said, walking towards you. 

“Just how girls love to be described,” you remarked. He came up to you, stopping only a foot away. 

“This isn’t how you usually dress,” he said, chewing on his lower lip. “Can I just…adjust something?” You nodded, locking eyes with him as he undid your necktie. He tucked it into his pocket before reaching out and fiddling with the top button of your shirt. 

“Hey,” you said, smacking at his hands. “We’re in front of the dorm, what are you doing?” He undid the collar button, exposing the necklace you always wore, a thin silver cross that had been a gift from your parents at your confirmation. 

“Let’s try that,” Brian suggested. Taking a step back, he looked you up and down. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to make a decision. 

“Well?” you asked. 

“One more thing.” He reached out and brushed a lock of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. His thumb touched your jaw, and he drew your face up towards his. Before you knew it, his lips were pressed against yours. What he had intended to be just enough to bring a bit of colour into your cheeks turned into your hands wrapped in his hair, and his arms around your waist. After a minute, Brian pulled back and mumbled something against your lips. 

“What’s that?” you asked, dazed, as you looked into his eyes. 

“Perfect,” he said, laying his forehead against yours for a moment. You untangled your fingers from his curls, giving him space to take several large steps back. He held the camera up and took a few photos, your eyes fixed on him the entire time. Finally, he nodded that he was finished. 

“Sometimes, you wear this little smile as if you have a secret, and I wanted to capture that,” Brian explained as he held your door open for you. 

“What about the scarf and my shirt?” you asked before he shut the door. He clambered into the driver’s seat and leaned over to give you a short, sweet kiss. 

“The scarf isn’t anything like what you normally wear,” he said, turning the key in the ignition, “and I couldn’t see your necklace, which I’ve never seen you without.” He put the van into drive and slowly pulled out of the parking loop, onto the roadway. “I wanted a photo of the real you.” It was a sweet sentiment, and as much as you didn’t like being in photos, you were glad he had taken them. 

“Will you show them to me when you get them developed?” 

“Of course,” he assured you. He turned onto a side-street on the edge of the campus, parking outside the Chinese restaurant Roger had introduced him to shortly after they had met. 

“Shall I come in with you?” 

“Fred ordered over the phone, I just have to pay and pick it up,” he replied. “Be back in just a minute.” True to his word, he returned shortly after with several large takeout containers and a handful of chopsticks. 

“Are we feeding the entire building?” you asked, smirking. Brian wrinkled his nose at you and poked your leg playfully with a pair of chopsticks. 

“The boys are looking forward to meeting you,” he said, watching the road carefully. An elderly woman leaning on a crooked cane hobbled across the road ahead, followed by a fluff-ball of a dog. 

“Are they now?” you raised your eyebrows. 

“Of course they are,” Brian insisted. “I’ve never really brought anyone by before, so they’re very curious about you.” You looked up at him curiously, admiring his profile. His jaw was sharply defined, and had the beginning shadow of a beard that had scratched sharply against your skin as he kissed you just minutes earlier. 

“Will they like me, do you think?” 

“I’m sure they will, John especially,” he said, taking your hand in his. “He’s got a soft spot for platform shoes.” You drove the last few blocks in silence, both caught up in your thoughts. 

Brian parked in front of his building, pulling up close enough to the sidewalk that the wheels brushed the curb. You snatched up half the takeout containers, ignoring his protests. 

“I’m very capable of helping you carry things,” you announced, holding the containers up as proof. Brian rolled his eyes, but used put his free hand to work locking the van doors. He led the way into the building, which smelled strongly of cigarette smoke and bad aftershave. 

“Brian, darling!” a melodic voice floated down the staircase. “Do hurry, we’re absolutely famished up here.” Brian shook his head and sighed. 

“That’s Freddie for you,” he muttered. 

The door of the flat was wide open when they reached it, allowing the music playing within to drift into the hall. As you entered the apartment, you recognized Roger, who was sitting on the couch and smoking with a slight, olive-skinned man. As soon as he saw Brian, the other fellow jumped up off the couch and threw his arms wide. 

“What do you think of this outfit, Brian?” he exclaimed, twirling to show off the way the loose fabric moved as he spun. “Mary and I picked it out this morning, and I think it would be just perfect for the show tomorrow night. Brian set the takeout containers down on the kitchen table, which was wedged between the wall and the couch. Roger vaulted over the back of the couch and started opening containers. 

“That’s a good colour on you,” Brian nodded approvingly. “The pattern around the neck is especially lovely. Mary knows you well, Fred.” Freddie smiled widely, showing off his teeth. He moved past Brian and held out his hands as soon as he saw you. 

“Oh, she’s lovely,” Freddie gasped dramatically, taking your hands in his. “Brian, you should have brought her home sooner.” As he spun you around like a ballerina, you couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m Freddie, and you must be Y/N,” he said softly. “Brian’s been in very good spirits the last few weeks, but he’s kept you all to himself!” He led you over to the couch, shooed Roger out of his seat, and promptly sat you down with a plate of food. 

“John, would you grab a drink for the lady, please?” he asked, seating himself beside you. Brian chose to sit on the floor, with his right shoulder tucked up against your leg. John, who Brian had described to you as quite shy, brought you a bottle of cold beer, which you accepted with a smile. 

“Hello,” he nodded, shaking your hand. He pulled up a chair from the kitchen table and perched beside Freddie. A plate of noodles floated precariously above John’s head as Roger walked past him, dragging a chair that he set up beside John’s. 

“Eat, drink, and be merry,” Freddie instructed everyone with a flourish of his hand. The boys wasted no time digging into their food. Balancing your plate on your lap, you tried your best not to drop anything from your fork into Brian’s hair. 

“Scrabble after supper, then?” John asked between bites. 

“Depends on whether Fred’s going to play fair this time,” Roger frowned, shooting a dirty look in Freddie’s direction. The man tossed his long hair disdainfully, acting as if Roger had been inventing stories. 

“It’s not my fault that you can’t see the letters, Roger,” Freddie insisted. “If you went in and got a pair of specs, I’m sure you’d much better off at all sorts of things.” Roger scoffed at the suggestion and threw his crumpled serviette at Freddie’s face. 

“Y/N’s dormitory had a games night scheduled for this evening, so I’m sure she’d be thrilled to play Scrabble,” Brian suggested, looking up at you with a mischievous grin. 

“I’d certainly rather play it here than back at the dormitory,” you laughed. The boys began to argue over who was the better Scrabble player, leaving you to observe and sip at your beer. 

“Now, now, here’s how it really is,” Roger finally declared, calling order to the conversation. “John tends to score highest. Fred always makes up words, which someone eventually looks up and decides aren’t real. I can’t see a fucking thing, so I’m out. And Brian takes so bloody long to make a decision and put his letters down that the rest of us fall asleep.” They all roared with laughter over this explanation, and you couldn’t help but laugh as well. 

Though their personalities were often at odds, you began to understand as you sat and listened to them talk that they were better together than apart. Freddie’s boisterous nature drew John out from behind the curtains; Roger and Brian bickered constantly, but were fiercely loyal to each other. Brian had told you about how well they worked as a band, and you had been impressed and intrigued by their unique sound when you had seen their show the month before. 

“Y/N, are you having more rice, or can I finish this box?” Roger asked, drawing you out of your thoughts. 

“No, thank you, have at it,” you said, “all yours.” Roger picked up the container and shovelled rice into his mouth with his chopsticks, almost as if he were a vacuum. As you finished your beer, John ensured that another took its place. Freddie set up the Scrabble board on the kitchen table as Brian threw out empty containers and put the others into the fridge. You collected plates and went to work washing the dishes in the sink. 

“Leave those, I’ll do them later, Y/N,” John protested, but you waved him off. 

“I’ve got to earn my supper somehow,” you grinned, waving him off. As you stood at the sink, Brian came up behind you and slid his thumbs through your belt loops, pulling you close to him. He kissed your temple, your throat beneath your jaw. You tilted your head up to meet his eyes, but that only exposed your throat further. 

“Are you sure you want to play Scrabble?” he asked, breathing huskily as he nuzzled your throat. 

“I certainly do,” you replied, rinsing off a plate. You shifted your weight as to brush yourself against the front of Brian’s trousers, and you felt him smile at your throat. “But I’d be willing to stick around afterwards, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

Roger stepped into the kitchen, startling you as he opened the fridge and retrieved another beer. Brian tucked himself against you so Roger could walk past him back out into the sitting room area. 

“Don’t mind me,” Roger said, whistling as he passed. Brian breathed out a short laugh, tickling your throat. As you set the last dish in the drying rack, you turned yourself around to face him. He pressed his hips into you, pinning you against the counter. 

“We’ll be ready to start in just a minute, darlings,” Freddie called out. There was a wall between the kitchen and the table, shielding you from the view of prying eyes. Brian placed his hands on either side of your face, letting his nose brush up against your own. Your own hands found the hem of his t-shirt and slid under it, exploring the warm skin beneath. 

Brian’s mouth met yours eagerly, and you responded instantly to him. He was quiet but passionate, ever aware of his roommates on the other side of the wall. Your mind momentarily wandered to the conversation you and Elaine had the day before about how things with Brian hadn’t exactly been moving along as quickly as you had hoped, but that thought disappeared as Brian rolled his hips against you, rubbing you in all the right places. 

Freddie cleared his throat officiously at the table, bringing your time in the kitchen to a halt. Brian kissed your cheek and laughed as Roger began making outrageous noises in your direction. 

“Later,” you smiled, running a hand suggestively down the front of Brian’s trousers. After smoothing down your hair and adjusting Brian’s shirt, you walked out and sat down beside John. Brian took a seat to your left beside Roger. After a moment, Roger leaned back and glanced beneath the table at Brian’s lap. 

“Shall I run a cold shower for you, love?” Roger asked, straight-faced. He and Brian stared at each other for nearly 10 seconds before bursting into laughter. As Freddie dumped the Scrabble tiles onto the table, humming to himself, John leaned towards you. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen him this happy,” he confided. “We’re glad you’re here.” You patted his knee gently, grateful for his comment. 

“He’s certainly something special,” you whispered. 

* * * 

After nearly two hours of Scrabble, several more beers and a long sip from Freddie’s personal bourbon bottle, you were understandably tipsy. Roger had fallen asleep on the couch after being ejected from the game for excessive cursing, and John and Brian had carried Freddie and deposited him on his bed in the room he and John shared. After helping John and Brian clean up the game and the empty bottles, John excused himself for the night. Glancing at Roger, who was out cold with one leg dangling off the couch, you reached up and pulled Brian’s face down to your own. 

He guided you towards his bedroom, fumbling with the doorknob as you undid his belt. He closed the door gently behind him, as to not disturb John, who was likely trying to sleep through Freddie’s drunken snores on the other side of the wall. Between kisses, Brian pulled his shirt over his head, and removed yours as well. You fell backwards onto the bed, your head spinning slowly as you propped yourself up on your elbows. 

“Are you alright?” Brian asked, kneeling above you. You reached up and laced your fingers in his hair, blinking sleepily as you nodded. 

“Come on, Bri,” you slurred, giggling as you heard your own voice. 

“I think,” Brian said, kissing your chest sweetly, “that we should just go to bed. What do you say?” You shook your head fiercely, frowning. 

“I already unzipped your trousers,” you said, pointing at the waistband of his boxer shorts. Brian nuzzled his face against your breasts, still held in place by your lacy bra. 

“Yes, love,” he acknowledged, bringing his face up to yours, “but I’m not going to sleep with you when you’re drunk, because that’s not right of me.” You kissed the tip of his nose and began laughing hysterically. 

“Okay, Mister Smarty-Pants,” you agreed, “but I’m not sleeping in these silly trousers, and neither are you.” You fumbled with the button on your trousers until Brian reached over and unbuttoned them for you. You stood up from the bed, swaying back and forth as you attempted to keep your balance. You stood in only your bra and panties, and Brian looked up at you, his eyes twinkling. 

“You are stunningly beautiful,” he whispered. “But you’re going to get chilly if that’s all you’re going to wear.” He sat up and grabbed his t-shirt from the end of the bed, turned it right-side out, and helped you pull it over your head. 

“Your turn,” you said, putting your hands on your hips. With a chuckle, Brian pulled his trousers off and tossed them on the floor. He stood beside you and peeled the quilt back from his bed, arranging the pillows so that you could both lie down. 

“Bra on or off?” Brian asked, tapping at the clasp of your bra with his fingers. 

“Off,” you said decidedly. “Defitin…defint…definitely off,” you frowned, stumbled over your words. Brian gently unclipped it through the back of your shirt, and you slipped the straps off over your arms. You threw it atop Brian’s trousers, and allowed him to guide you onto the bed beside him. 

“Do I get one more kiss?” you asked him loudly. He put a finger to his lips, hushing you, but leaned forward and gave you a soft, sweet goodnight kiss. As you laid your head against the pillow, he tucked himself against you, slipping an arm beneath your neck, and another across your waist. He pulled the blankets up, covering your bare legs, and gently nuzzled the back of your neck. 

“Hey, Y/N?” he said softly. You didn’t respond, because he had asked you to be quiet. After a minute of silence, he breathed against the back of your neck, and whispered, “I think I’m falling in love with you.” You fell asleep with his words in your mind, and your body in his arms.


	3. Lazing on a Thursday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After drinking a bit too much, you wake up in Brian's flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience while I worked on this chapter! I had planned on having it finished sooner, but I got a bit busy with uni. Enjoy :)

You had always loved waking up in the morning; not just getting out of bed or having to go places, but the slow way your body adjusted to the light creeping in through the windows, and the chill of air against your feet, which tended to slip out from under the blankets in the early hours of dawn. This morning, however, felt better than any previous one you could remember. As you breathed in your first conscious breath of the day, you came to the realization that your back was pressed against Brian’s warm, sleeping body.

In the night, the shirt you had borrowed from him had ridden up, leaving your stomach exposed. His hand now rested against your stomach, holding you gently. Glancing down at your bare feet, which had indeed come uncovered in the night, you noticed that Brian slept in his socks. Stretching your arms high above your head, you rolled over to face the sleeping man beside you. You rested a hand against his sternum and delicately touched the hair that covered his chest. His skin was much warmer than your own, so you cuddled closer in hopes of sharing the heat. 

Slowly, you moved your face closer to him, pressing your lips against his throat. His stubble had grown past the point of a shadow, and you enjoyed the scratch of his whiskers as you trailed kissed along his jaw and neck. You slipped a hand behind him, walking your fingers up and down the bones of his spine. His eyelids fluttered, and he squinted in the yellow light of the morning. 

“Good morning, lovely girl,” he yawned, leaning forward to kiss you. 

“My mouth tastes bad, Brian,” you groaned softly, turning your face away. “Don’t kiss me.” He ignored your protests, pulling you closer. You tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he held you tight. 

“Come back,” he murmured, his voice heavy with sleep. “I haven’t got anything on, so if you leave and take the blanket with you, I’ll freeze.” With a huff, you stopped wiggling and settled back in against him. Brian hummed softly, enjoying the softness of your skin as he put a hand on your waist, shifting your shirt further up. 

“Are you trying to undress me, Mr. May?” you asked, smiling up at him. “Because if so, you’ll have to let me get up and brush my teeth.” 

“No, it’s too cold for you to get up,” he insisted, shaking his head. “I just want to steal your warmth, and it’s hard to do with this shirt is in the way.” 

“Well if that’s all…” you smirked, sitting upright on the edge of the bed. Brian watched you contently as you peeled his t-shirt over your head, leaving your back bare. Your bra was still on the floor, but you weren’t about to retrieve it. 

“How’s the view?” you teased, peeking over your shoulder as though you were a model in one of the magazines Roger had laid out on his bed. 

“Usually I wake up to Roger’s ugly mug, so this is…lovely,” he breathed, reaching out to touch you. His long fingers tickled your back, trailing over your skin like a paintbrush on canvas. You shivered as a draft blew in through a crack in the window seal, giving you goosebumps. “Come lie down for a few more minutes, Y/N, before you get cold,” Brian urged you. Swinging your legs back up onto the bed, you turned toward the handsome man beside you and pressed your bare skin against the length of his body. 

“Any plans for the rest of the morning?” you inquired, looking up at him from under your eyelashes. His brow creased, relaxing as he looked into your eyes. 

“This seems like a good plan to me,” he smiled, placing a hand against your hip. Just as you moved to lean in for a kiss, the sound of the oven timer rang out in the kitchen, startling you both. A moment later, Roger yawned loudly in the living room, having been woken by the breakfast bell. 

“Knock knock, lovebirds,” called a singsong voice from the other side of the bedroom door. “Breakfast is nearly ready!” Freddie’s shadow moved away from the door. A pair of socked feet shuffled across the hardwood, stopping in front of the door. 

“Rog, give us a min—” Brian started to say, but the door handle had already turned. In walked Roger, a wild shock of blonde hair emanating from his head. His eyes were almost completely closed as he entered the room. As his knees met the mattress, he fell face-first into his bed. Brian pulled the blanket up to your shoulders, and you tucked it beneath your arms, covering your chest. 

“Rough night, Roger?” you asked, more than slightly amused. The mattress muffled his response. As he lifted his head up to give you a clear answer, he noticed your bare shoulders, and Brian’s bare chest. 

“Have I interrupted something?” he asked, glancing between the both of them. You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. Brian took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down. 

“No Roger, we were just getting up,” he sighed. “Nothing to see here.” Roger frowned slightly and turned his face back into the mattress, too sleepy at this point in the day to comprehend sarcasm. 

“Freddie, would you be a dear and close the door?” you called out, leaning back against Brian. A moment later, Freddie appeared in the doorway with a tray of muffins in one hand. 

“Of course, darling,” he replied, raising his eyebrows as he took in the scene before him. Brian wrapped a protective arm around your waist. “Shall I…?” Freddie asked, nodding towards Roger. Brian cleared his throat, and Freddie stepped into action. 

“Roger, let’s get you into the shower now,” Freddie cooed, patting Roger’s back. “I’m sure that after a night like last night, you could use a nice, hot rinse-off.” Roger shifted slightly, but didn’t move any further. Freddie looked up again, shrugging his shoulders apologetically. 

“John, would you fetch me a bowl of ice cubes, please?” A sigh, followed by rustling newspaper, came from the kitchen. The icebox opened, and moments later, John’s arm appeared, holding out an ice cube tray. 

“Have a good sleep, Y/N?” he asked, respectfully remaining outside the door. 

“Fine, thank you,” you replied, your face flushing red. Brian leaned forward and lightly brushed his lips against your shoulder, reassuring you that the situation couldn’t get worse. You watched with curiosity as Freddie plucked a piece of ice from the tray and slipped it down the back of Roger’s shirt. As the ice rolled down his back, Roger shot up off the bed like a bolt of lightning. 

“Fucking hell, that’s cold!” he screeched. Roger tried to shake the ice from his shirt, but it was still tucked into his trousers from the day before. Using his arm like a shepherd’s crook, Freddie removed him from the room and gently closed the door. 

“My god, I thought they’d never leave,” Brian groaned, collapsing on the bed. You turned towards him, leaning on your elbow, and rested a hand on his chest. 

“Brian, it’s alright,” you smiled, laying your head on his breastbone. His heart was strong, rhythmically beating beneath your ear. “But I think we should go have some breakfast, don’t you think?” You kissed each of his collarbones before giving him a short peck on the lips. Your clothes were in a pile on the floor, which you walked over and picked up. 

“Would this be considered a reverse strip tease?” Brian asked, raising an eyebrow. In response, you made a show of doing up your bra, dancing around the small room as you buttoned your trousers. For some reason, your blouse was nowhere to be found; Brian’s closet appeared to have a variety of alternatives, from which you chose a black Jimi Hendrix t-shirt. 

“Very sexy,” Brian approved. “Close your eyes, now, it’s my turn.” Giggling, you covered your eyes with your hands. After a minute and a fair number of hmm’s, Brian grabbed your hands and pulled them away from your face. He stood before you in a pair of white running shorts, which looked incredibly short with his long legs. He had pulled his socks nearly to his knees, was shirtless, and had borrowed a pair of Roger’s rainbow suspenders, which pulled his shorts up even higher. He held out his hands, as if presenting some sort of award. 

“I never want to see you in anything but this,” you said, trying to keep a straight face. Brian struck a pose, placing a hand on his hip and pouting his lips as fashion models often did in magazines. 

Sitting on the bedside table was Brian’s camera. While he was distracted with making poses, you held the camera to your eye and focused it on him. He realized what you were doing only as lens snapped shut, capturing his outfit in all its glory. 

“Y/N, did you just—” 

“I certainly did,” you smiled, raising your eyebrows in delight. “And when you develop the photos, I insist that you give me a copy.” Brian scowled, crossing his arms over his bare chest. With a mock pout, you walked up to him and slipped your fingers under the straps of his suspenders, pulling him closer. 

“Are you angry with me?” you asked, looking up into his eyes. He tilted his face down toward you and kissed your forehead. 

“Never,” he whispered, wrapping you into a hug. He held you tightly, with his chin resting atop your head. With one hand, he stroked your hair. You released his suspenders and circled his waist with your arms. You started to sway side to side, and he moved with you, dancing in slow circles. 

“I heard you last night, you know,” you murmured against his chest. The words weren’t something you had intended to say, but in the intimacy of the moment, it felt right. 

“Heard what?” he asked, his eyes closed contently. 

“You said you thought you might falling in love with me.” 

“Ah, that,” Brian nodded. “I did say that, didn’t I?” His throat vibrated as he started to hum, an unconscious habit of his when he was thinking. “Does it make you nervous, the idea that I might feel that way about you after only a few weeks?” he wondered. His breath was warm, and you shivered slightly as his lips brushed against your ear. His eyes, brown and green swirled with dark honey, met yours as you pulled back and looked up at him. 

“No, not nervous,” you replied, shaking your head slightly. “Secure. As if nothing bad could ever happen when we’re together.” Brian tightened his grip on you, holding you as if he was afraid you might disappear if he wasn’t careful. 

“I love you,” he said finally, testing the words out loud. “I don’t think those words do it justice, but until I can find better ones, they’ll have to do.” He watched you closely, waiting for a response. You lifted yourself onto your tiptoes and kissed him softly. 

“You make me feel loved without even saying it,” you promised him. “And I hope you can feel my love in every look, and every touch.” You lifted a hand to his face and brushed your thumb across his stubbled cheek. “But just to make it clear…I love you, too.” As Brian’s lips met yours, you forgot all about about the muffins waiting for you in the kitchen, content instead to be swept up in the arms of the man you loved. 

* * * 

“I can't believe you two,” Freddie said, his shoulders sagging with dramatic disappointment. “I made these muffins at 10 this morning, and you let them get cold. It's nearly 2 o'clock,” he scowled. Brian tucked himself into a chair at the kitchen table, and picked up a muffin to investigate it. 

“Fred, are these banana chocolate chip?” he asked, tearing the baking paper away from the bottom of the muffin. “I fucking love banana chocolate chip." With a smile, you leaned in and kissed Freddie’s cheek. 

“Thank you for putting in so much work, Freddie,” you beamed. “I’m sure they’re delicious, even if they aren’t warm anymore.” You sat down next to Brian and grabbed a muffin. “Besides,” you said, taking a bite, “we’re the ones who got distracted and let them go cold.” Brian put a hand over yours and squeezed gently. 

“And a welcome distraction it was,” he smiled, his eyes glittering mischievously. “Oh, Fred, hope you liked the album we chose. We figured Hendrix was a great way to start the day off right.” You blushed as you remembered Brian throwing the record onto the turntable and cranking the volume before pulling you into bed. 

“Brian, you’re such a whore sometimes,” Freddie laughed, shaking his head. “When Roger stumbled out of the shower, I thought he was going to break the door down to turn the music off. Apparently he’s got quite the hangover, and your record choice didn’t agree with it.” You glanced over at the couch to where John was seated, reading a book. Roger was fast asleep, his head resting on John’s knees. John’s hand rested affectionately on his friend’s back. 

“John, when are you going to nurse me back to health after a bender?” Freddie pouted. 

“Maybe when you start making decent muffins,” John replied, never glancing up from his book. Freddie’s mouth fell open, and he huffed indignantly. 

“What’s wrong with my muffins?” he cried. John lifted his hand from Roger’s back and turned the page of his book. 

“Bit too sweet for my test, Fred,” John smirked, knowing he was getting a rise out of his roommate. “Maybe cut back on the chocolate chips?” Freddie stormed into the kitchen and ran the water, clanging around as he did the dishes. 

“Don’t know why I even try,” you heard him mutter darkly. “That John, I’ll show him…too sweet, my arse.” Brian shot a look at John, shaking his head. 

“Deac, you know he’ll stay up all night trying to make you the perfect muffin,” he said sternly. “Look what you’ve done,” John glanced up from his book. 

“Veronica’s coming over later,” he shrugged, as if that explained everything. Brian broke out into laughter, nearly choking on his muffin. John continued to read, and you and Brian finished your breakfast to the sound of Roger’s snoring and Freddie thrashing about in the kitchen. 

* * * 

“Where are we going, Brian?” you giggled, nearly running to keep up with him as he walked across Putney Bridge. 

“Keep up, now,” he insisted, holding tightly to your hand. You were struggling to keep up to his long strides, but Brian appeared dead-set on walking the bridge quickly. 

It had been nearly two o’clock by the time you and Brian had gotten out of bed for ‘breakfast’, and the remainder of your afternoon had been spent strolling along the streets of London. You were wrapped in one of Freddie’s coats, which fit you better than Brian’s. The sky was fading from blue to a deeper purple, and in less than an hour, it would be quite dark. 

“Let’s stop here a moment,” Brian said finally, guiding you to the side of the bridge. You realized that you were right over the centre of the Thames, where the water gently rolled through beneath one of the open arches. A family of ducks were gathered in the water below, quacking away. You rested your arms against the cool stone railing, and Brian tucked himself beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist. The sun was setting, and the sky to the west was painted bright pinks and oranges. 

“Brian, this is beautiful,” you breathed, admiring the sky’s reflection on the rippling water. “Did you know it would look like this?” Having grown up in a quiet village in Derbyshire, you weren’t familiar with London the way Brian was. 

“I’m sorry I had to rush you, but I was afraid we wouldn’t make it in time otherwise,” Brian explained. “I wanted to do something a bit special, since we’re coming up on exams, and we won’t see each other much for a few weeks.” You leaned into him, enjoying the warmth of his body. 

“It’s perfect,” you smiled, turning your face up to kiss his cheek. His hair tickled your face, the fresh scent of his strawberry shampoo reminding you of summer days long gone. “I’m glad I skipped class to be with you today.” 

“Me, too,” he said, resting his chin on the top of your head. The sun slowly ducked below the horizon, and you stood and watched quietly together as the vibrant colours of the sunset melted into pastels, and finally the blue-black of evening took over the sky. 

“Shall we walk back, now?” you asked, looking up at Brian, whose eyes glinted in the light of the streetlamp beside you. 

“Walk?” Brian laughed, kissing your forehead. “It’s a long way back, love. It took nearly two hours at the pace we were going. No, I convinced Fred and Roger to meet us with the van by Saint Mary’s Church in about…10 minutes,” he said, glancing at his watch. “Figured John and Veronica might like having the flat to themselves for the evening,” he smirked. 

“The dormitory is putting on some sort of supper tonight, if you all wanted to come,” you suggested. “I’m sure all the birds would fawn over Roger, and he’d love it.” Brian laughed, lacing his fingers through yours as you began the walk towards Putney. 

“Sounds lovely, and inexpensive,” he smiled, “just what college students like.” He raised your hand to his face and kissed the back of your hand delicately. As you walked, he began to hum again, the same tune he had been singing earlier in the day. 

“What’s that you’re humming, Bri?” you asked. He glanced down at you with a look of confusion, unaware that he had been humming at all. 

“Oh, just something I’m working on,” he muttered, frowning. “I’ll play it for you when I get a little further on it. All I’ve got for sure is a chorus.” 

“I don’t mind if it’s not done yet,” you shrugged. “Just sing what you’ve got. I love hearing your voice.” He glanced down at you, and you tried your best to plead with your eyes. He shook his head, rolling his eyes at your attempt, but after a moment he began to sing quietly. 

“Oh oh the night comes down and I get afraid of losing my way oh, oh the night comes down ooh and it’s dark again.” 

“Promise me you’ll always sing for me,” you asked when he had finished. “Even if Freddie sings lead on every song at every show you play, I want you to sing for me when we’re alone.” Brian nodded, and kissed the top of your head. 

“I promise.” 

As you came to the end of the bridge, you saw that up ahead, Freddie and Roger were leaned up against the side of the parked van, each with a lit cigarette in his hand. They were hotly debating something, but you weren’t close enough to hear them yet. 

“Wonder what’s happening there?” you frowned. Brian chuckled softly, releasing your hand and instead wrapping his arm around your shoulders. 

“You never know with those two,” he mused. “Could be football, could be some girl they both fancy.” As they approached, Roger looked up. 

“Finally,” he said, rolling his eyes in frustration. “Could someone please tell Fred that I won Scrabble last night? He was clearly too legless to remember.” Brian patted Roger firmly on the shoulder and opened the van door for you. 

“Sorry Rog, can’t remember,” he said evenly. “Kind of had other priorities.” Brian held out a hand, allowing you to climb into the van first. He followed, leaving Roger and Freddie to bicker over the driver’s seat. Roger slammed the van door shut, leaving you and Brian alone while they finished their cigarettes. 

“Thank you, Brian,” you whispered into his ear as he settled in beside you. 

“What for?” 

“Everything,” you said. “Today was nothing short of perfect. It’ll be tough, not seeing you for a while during exams, but I’m thankful for today.” 

“Certainly a day to remember,” he acknowledged. He slipped a hand behind your neck and leaned in for a kiss, just as Roger opened his door and jumped into the driver’s seat. 

“So,” he said, turning around to face you both, “I heard through the grapevine that there’s some sort of supper at the Imperial College dormitory tonight. What are the chances you want to sneak us in, Y/N?” 

“Yes,” you groaned, “we can go. As long as you promise to leave at the end of the night, and not sleep over in one of the girls’ rooms.” Roger nodded, his expression solemn. Finally, Freddie climbed opened his door and clambered into the passenger seat. 

“Well, what did she say?” he asked, looking at Roger. 

“She says we can go, but we can’t sleep over.” 

“Marvellous,” Freddie crowed. “Didn’t say we can’t sleep with anyone, we just can’t stay the night!” He held up his hand and received a high-five from Roger, who was grinning like an idiot. Brian pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, but you couldn’t help but laugh at his friends. 

As the van got moving, Freddie turned up the radio, which was playing The Beatles’ ‘Penny Lane’. He and Roger lit up, and began to sing at the top of their lungs. Seeing that they were distracted, you leaned over to Brian, and a playful grin spread across your face. 

“What?” he asked, his eyebrows knit together curiously. 

“Well,” you said slowly, leaning in until your lips were nearly touching his ear, “I told the boys they aren’t allowed to stay the night, but I never said you couldn’t.”


End file.
